A Miner's Fire and A Peacekeeper's Security
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: This is the last iteration in my Katniss Marriage Series! I wanted to write a fic where Katniss marries Gale, and then marries Darius - Peeta is never in the picture! I came up with this. Please, review and enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Kissed and Proposed To

**Chapter 1: Kissed and Proposed To**

I wake up in bed that morning feeling more rested than I ever have in my entire life. Our ramshackle house in the Seam is empty now, but it won't be for much longer.

I think it's fairly safe to say that I have never known luck until today, or at least until the hours of late last night. My father died in a mine explosion when I was 11. Four years later, Mother committed suicide, leaving two daughters poor and destitute and alone. I have mostly raised my little sister, Primrose, since then, hunting and trading in the Hob and having us both hide out from the Community Home, where orphans under the age of 18 like us should be.

The string of bad luck for the Everdeen girls only got worse from there.

A few weeks ago, my baby sister was Reaped in her first eligible year for the 74th Annual Hunger Games. I tried to volunteer, was ready to open my mouth and do so, but the look my little sister gave me as she bravely took the stage rendered me silent. Alone in the Justice Building together, we wept and wailed and bemoaned our fate. I told Prim to win for me, even if in my heart of hearts I knew she was almost certainly not going to come back alive.

And yet, somehow, fate intervened. Fate allowed my sister, when she got into the wooded arena, to run, hide, outlast and even at one heart-stopping point kill 23 other tributes - almost all of whom were a lot older and a lot bigger than her. Two and a half weeks later, she emerged as the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games - the younger Victor ever and only the third from District 12. Only one of her predecessors - a drunk by the name of Haymitch Abernathy - remains alive today. I don't know how he managed to mentor her out of there alive, but he did.

And now, my Primrose is coming home today from the Capitol - all pink-faced and warm and _alive_.

I hear the banging on my door downstairs as I change into my blue Reaping dress -a relic from Mother's days as a Merchant, before she ran off into the Seam to elope with my father. Peacekeepers, probably come to collect the one family member of the Victor. We will be moving into Prim's mansion in the Victor's Village this very afternoon, and even though I am still only 16 years old, the Community Home can't touch us now. Once you are a Victor, you are untouchable, and that protective shield will also extend around me. But when I open the door, I find with great relief that it is my hunting partner and best friend, Gale Hawthorne, come to escort me to the train station.

"Come on, Catnip! Let's go! Glory be, Prim is going to be home by high noon!"

I smile weakly, still unable to believe that this is real. Gale and I became close after our fathers perished in the same mine explosion, and have worked together since to raise and feed our families - nine and later eight people between us. Looping my arm through his, Gale guides me out of the Seam, through Town and to the train station, where an impressive crowd has already gathered. Primrose may have been born Seam, but with her azure eyes and blond hair, she could pass for a Merchant's child. With dark hair, grey eyes and olive skin, I much more favor my father and his Seam bloodline.

Someone perched on a rooftop hollers, "It's rounding the bend!" and a steady chug can be heard. The Capitol locomotive hurtles into view, blasting out one last whistle as the train pulls into the station. The first-class car opens and the whole of the District erupts in cheers upon seeing Primrose and Haymitch. My heart constricts, my eyes pricking with tears, as the full reality of what has been achieved hits me. Glancing to my right, Gale actually appears just as emotional - a startling feat, as he rarely, if ever, betrays his emotions. Our eyes lock, and we look at each other. Moving as one, my best friend and I swoop into each other's arms in relief.

Then, tilting my head and bending me back, Gale kisses me full on the mouth.

I gasp, slightly startled, parting my lips just enough for Gale to lick and wriggle his tongue into my mouth. I feel his strong arms encircle my spine. I have never been kissed before in my life. I don't know what to do, or what this will mean once we break apart. Until now, I have shunned all thoughts of romance, and certainly all public displays of affection. However, in the next instant, I surprise even myself as, draping my arms about Gale's neck, I close my eyes and kiss him back.

My kissing skills are clumsy, to be sure, my mouth sucking on and undulating against Gale's awkwardly. At long last, we dreamily break the kiss, as I wrench my head free with a soft POP!. My grey eyes flutter open. Gale is beaming down at me, hopeful given that I returned his kiss.

"Catnip, will you marry me?"

I gape at him in astonishment, speechless, certain I have misheard. I really shouldn't be so startled. Mother and Mrs. Hawthorne would sometimes gossip about the possibility of their eldest children getting married someday; I never encouraged such views. And besides, the age of consent - to get married and make love - is 16 here in District 12. Most people don't know that, as teenagers often wait until they are 18 - and after surviving their last Reaping - before proposing to their sweethearts. Since becoming free of the Games a few weeks ago, Gale is certainly liable to propose marriage to me or any other woman he wishes. But, though I am now the relative of a Victor, my name still has two more years to go in the Reaping Bowl.

Not only that, Prim and by extension myself are now so filthy rich, it is no longer necessary to marry, even if for no other reason than economic security. Most Merchant couples do that in lieu of romantic love, and even some Seam, because we are so poor.

However, as I absent-mindedly run my fingers through Gale's long locks of hair, I nevertheless seriously consider his proposal. Peering into his eyes, I smile shyly. "Yes, I will. Kiss me."

The order comes out practically, and with no nonsense. Gale beams and takes me in his arms. And as Gale and I embrace and kiss, fireworks whizz and explode in the sunny sky of District 12, in celebration of my sister's Victory.

* * *

It is very rare for Seam families to own a wedding dress. We Everdeens are some of the lucky ones, as when she fled from Town, Mother took with her the family wedding dress, our one family heirloom. Adjusting the veil over my head, the morning of my wedding, I will now wear it to marry my best friend. Someday, despite all the odds, Primrose will wear it after me, perhaps passing it down to their children.

For although Gale might want them, no matter how badly he does, I will never bear his babies. Babies grow into children who are sent into arenas to die. I refuse to partake in that sickest of war machines.

Prim holds up my train as we glide down from Victor's Village and through Town to the Justice Building. Gale meets me there, clad in his best-pressed suit, and we stand before the District Clerk, who marries us. Gale and I sign the marriage license. Normally, at this point, we would be assigned a house in the Seam, but since Gale is now related to a Victor by marriage, he and I will start our married life together in Primrose's mansion home.

My sister, husband and I walk happily back to Victor's Village, and upon reaching the Everdeen mansion, Gale sweeps me off my feet and carries me - his bride and new wife - into our house. We stoke up the fire, toasting a bit of bread over the hearth, and share it. The Toasting - the traditional marriage custom in District 12. No one here feels truly married without it.

Tilting my head, my grey orbs dancing in the firelight, I permit my new husband to kiss me, and I kiss him back, with both of us licking the errant bread crumbs off of our mouths...

* * *

A year later, Gale rises from the bed we share. Caressing my naked body from where we made passionate love the night before - he and I have had some wild sex in our marriage bed - he rouses me from sleep and I dress, preparing his lunch for when he goes off to work. Kissing me indecently goodbye, my husband leaves for the day.

He never comes home.

Around mid-morning, a deep explosion rocks the district, sending tremors all the way up to Victor's Village, enough to even knock old Haymitch Abernathy out of his chair. My sister and I go running to the mines, Haymitch hot on our heels, and with an anguished wail, I find my husband's lifeless corpse among the bodies.

Just like that, just like my mother before me, I find myself a grieving widow at the tender age of 17.


	2. Chapter 2: Marry Again

**Chapter 2: Marry Again**

I watch as the pair of tributes shake hands. And just like that, I am officially free from the Reaping for the Hunger Games.

It is such a relief, to be 18, to be an adult and to be able to finally get going with life. Indeed, all around me, I watch as free boys now drop to their knees in front of their sweethearts with rings in their hands.

It has become an unofficial tradition in District 12, for 18-year-old boys who have just aged out of the Reaping to propose to their girlfriends. The Peacekeepers have never felt the need to put a damper on such festivities; in fact, most of them find it cute. I don't. Not anymore. Not since my husband passed away a year ago.

It has been difficult to move on, but Prim has helped me through it. Thank goodness I never became pregnant with Gale's child - a baby would have just made matters more complicated.

As I turn to depart from the 18-year-old girls' pen and find my sister at the stage for a quick goodbye - she has to report to the Capitol to mentor the girl tribute, I hear a call of my name.

"Katniss! Katniss Everdeen!"

My maiden name sounds foreign to me, but I don't bother to correct that my full name is still Katniss Everdeen Hawthorne. Instead, I turn, observing the gentleman in the white Peacekeeper's uniform running up to me. "Peacekeeper Freeman."

Darius Freeman is the Deputy Head Peacekeeper for District 12, under Cray. He has a chiseled, handsome face, framed by long, flaming red hair. A kind smile. He has the reputation of being a bit of a flirt. When I was younger, back before I was married, he would try to barter with my for game in exchange for a kiss in the Hob.

"How was your patrol?" I ask him, knowing that being on-duty for Reaping Day is the busiest time for a Peacekeeper.

He beams. "All quiet, nothing to report." His voice drops to a low whisper. "I wanted to talk to you. Is there a good place, someplace we can go that's private?" He glances around. "I don't really want to have this conversation out in the street."

Wordlessly, I nod. I try to think. I could take him home, but Hazelle, my mother-in-law, will be there, cleaning and doing laundry. I'd suggest the Hob, but it's going to get busy once vendors return to their stalls. But I need to get inside. I'm fighting off heat exhaustion. The last thing I need is more time standing around outside, especially now that the sun is at high noon. "There isn't any place," I tell him after a few long moments.

His face falls and he bites his lower lip. "Damn." He lets out a sigh. "I suppose we can go to my house."

"You have a house? I thought you lived in the barracks."

"I did." He fiddles with his gloves, looking everywhere but right at me. "Not anymore, after my promotion, and when you reach a certain rank, they don't let you live with the other Peacekeepers. 'Cause it promotes fraternization or some such bullshit. So do you want to come over?"

"Okay," I agree. At least it'll be private.

We walk in silence. It's really too hot for casual conversation. I try to figure out just what he wants to talk to me about that's so important, but I come up blank.

By the time we make it to his house, the sun is beating down on our backs and my temple is sweating. Darius motions for me to take a seat at his kitchen table while he putters around the house, trying to find a teakettle. He's nervous, I realize, because if he'd just stop and look, he'd see there's one resting on one of the burners of the stove.

"D-D-D-Dar?"

He turns, a question in his eyes. I point at the teakettle and he lets out a short bark of laughter. "Right. Figures it'd be in plain sight." He doesn't bother trying to continue the conversation, instead filling the kettle, letting the coolness of his house seep into our bones.

While I wait, I take in the space I can see. The whole place feels antiseptic, almost artificial. There's a monotonous sameness to it, and there's absolutely nothing anywhere that gives a hint to who the owner is. No pictures or artwork or personal items, nothing. The house is a blank slate, just waiting for someone to make it a home. Darius can't have lived here long.

A few moments later, Darius sets a steaming mug of tea down in front of me along with a bowl of sugar and pitcher of milk. I stare at them, my mouth watering. I can't remember the last time I was able to take my tea with cream and sugar. I look up at him in surprise. Somewhere along the way, he's removed his helmet and body armor, and he's wearing what looks to be long gray pants and a grayish white sweater.

He smiles at me ruefully and runs one hand through his red hair. "I've always had a bit of a sweet tooth. My brother and I used to sneak out to the sugarcane fields at night and hack off pieces to chew. I realize now how dangerous it was. If we'd gotten caught, we could've been executed. But we were kids and it was sweet." His voice is distant as he shares this memory with me. His smile softens. "So now you know my deep dark secret. I'm a sugar thief."

I can't help it. The way he says it makes me laugh, breaking the tension in the air. I fix my tea the way I prefer: heavy on the cream, heavy on the sugar. Darius hums in approval when I add three lumps to the warm amber liquid. "So what'd you want to talk to me about?" I ask after taking an exploratory sip. The tea is rich and spicy with a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg. This is not ordinary tea. I wonder why he's sharing it with me.

Darius sits down across from me, his striking eyes fixed on me. "You know I like you, Katniss."

I nod my head wordlessly, though my eyes are wide with shock. How could a widowed Seam woman like me attract the attention of the Deputy Head Peacekeeper?

Seeing that I'm not going to say anything, Darius soldiers on. "I don't want to scare you, that's the last thing I want to do, but I have feelings for you. Strong feelings. Real feelings. And now I'm in a position where I can do something about it."

I frown. "I don't know what you mean."

"It's kind of complicated, but you know Peacekeepers aren't allowed to marry?"

I nod. I haven't really given much thought to it.

"Well, if I thought you'd say yes, and if I thought they'd allow it, I'd do the right thing and marry you." He stares down into his mug. "But I can't."

I don't know what to say, so I say nothing.

"But I can offer you the next best thing. I care about you, Katniss. Love you, even. And I can see you're struggling, grieving. With your sister's money, you do not want for anything." He stirs his finger in the rich brown liquid. "But I can tell you still want affection."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

His eyes meet mine. "I want you to be my life partner."

"...Life partner?"

His cheeks flush tomato red, but he doesn't look away. "It's not as seedy as it sounds. You'd be my companion and lover while I'm deployed here. In return, I can offer you a stipend, even a place to live if you want it."

"Where?"

He looks down into his tea again. "Here. With me. You could even bring your sister if you want, there's plenty of room."

That won't be necessary; Primrose has more money than some Capitolites. But as for me... my brain can't process this, so I stare at him, my tea growing cold on the table in front of me. "How… how…" I shake my head. "How long would this be for?"

"At least five years. Could be as long as nineteen."

I take a huge gulp to cover my shock. That's longer than I've even been alive. By the time our arrangement would be over, I'd be too old to start a family, even if I wanted to.

As if he's picked up on my thoughts, Darius continues. "I know that's a long time, and I'm not asking you to commit to anything you're not willing to."

"What about children?" Condoms don't work perfectly to prevent pregnancy, and that's if he's even willing to use them. I've helped my mother enough to know that. If I continue to be his lover for nineteen years, children are almost guaranteed.

I still don't know if I want children. But I do know I have missed having a husband.

"You mean, our children?" He's unable to cover the little smile that forms when he says those words. "I'd support them, of course. They'd never have to take out tesserae, I'd make sure of that. We don't have to have them if you don't want to, that's your choice. But if you did…" The blush intensifies. "I wouldn't mind. I've always wanted a big family."

I shake my head. "I don't know what to say."

He tilts his head. "You haven't asked me about money yet. I expected that'd be the first thing you'd want to know."

He's right. I haven't. It should've been the first thing on my mind, but I've just been so blindsided by the offer that I haven't asked the most important question. "How much are you offering?"

"If you didn't want to live with me, it'd be seventy five a month."

"And if I did?"

"Well, assuming you brought your whole family with you, I'd only be able to pay you fifty. But I'd cover everything else, like food and clothes and medicine, for all of you."

That's actually a better deal. If I lived with him, I wouldn't have any expenses and I'd be able to put away a huge nest egg, so when Darius's deployment did end, I wouldn't have to work in the mines unless I wanted to.

But no one gets fifty coin a month for doing nothing. "What would I be expected to do?"

"You'd be my housekeeper and this place," he gestures around the white-walled room, "would be yours to decorate how you want. You'd get to decide what we do and what we eat. And at night, we'd curl up together and… sleep."

"Just sleep?" That seems like a lot of money just to get someone to cuddle with.

"That'd be up to you too. Eventually, I'd like to make love with you, but I don't expect it right away." He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "You've… gone through so much. Had to do so much. You're the strongest person I know, Katniss, that's what I admire so much about you. But everyone's got a breaking point. And the last thing I want is for me to be that pebble that sends you careening off the cliff."

I'm grateful he isn't pushing me now, but I don't know when I'll be ready to have sex. Especially with a Peacekeeper. I like Darius. Any girl would be a fool not to take his offer in a heartbeat, even with the downsides.

Even as I was half-expecting it, his proposal nonetheless shocks me. I don't answer for a long time as I think it all over, weighing all the Pros and Cons in my head. Marrying a Peacekeeper, even a Deputy Head like Darius, is exactly the kind of economic security that my family needs, that Mother would seek for me. For a poor young Seam woman like me, there are only a few options for advancing above my station. One would have been to become a Victor of the Hunger Games (a feat that District 12 has only accomplished three times in the last 76 years, and only twice by women). More than this, I would be the wife of a Capitol official, guaranteeing for me a level of safety that the rest of the district could only dream of. That, coupled with being the sister of a Victor... no one could be any safer in District 12. As before, when I married Gale, there would be no hassle in being assigned a house, as all couples must go through when getting married at the Justice Building.

However, every Pro has a Con to go with it. Darius said that he could pay me fifty a month if my family and I lived with him. I quickly quell this concern - Primrose won't come with me, she is too comfortable. Coming alone, Darius could probably pay me the seventy-five a month he originally suggested. I can't live off of my sister's riches forever. But if what I have seen of the accommodations in the Barracks is any indication, I highly doubt that his officer's stipend could sustain two people, especially a husband and a wife. Besides, my trades are mostly conducted through barter; rarely am I paid coins for my kills, so I would not add to Darius's income in any meaningful way. Yes, marriage to a Peacekeeper would grant me safety, but what kind of safety is left out of my control. On the one hand, it could mean my ability to conduct my illegal hunts and trading with absolutely no fear of repercussions. On the other hand, a status as a Peacekeeper's spouse could add an extra level of scrutiny that would make such hunts all but impossible.

Then there is the issue of the Barracks. Darius may have his own house, but the Peacekeepers still practice communal living. Theirs is a militarized lifestyle with relatively few opportunities for romance or sex. Marriage for them is forbidden by higher-ups in the ranks, so most cadets abstain from marriage in favor of illegitimate couplings that more often than not result in bastard children without fathers. To have a woman in their midst, even if I would be the spoken-for wife of one of their own, would not prevent Darius's comrades from trying to have their own way with me. I may be able to one day submit to being a wife, but I would be a faithful wife. Not a trophy wife and definitely not a sex toy to be passed around or otherwise change hands. Ultimately, I would be in close proximity as a form of temptation for other men, and have little privacy outside of Darius's one abode. Perhaps not even that.

Then there are the Unknowns. Would Darius expect me to sleep with him? Surely yes; it's what spouses do. And the proposition of sex has never excited me before. Besides, sex - especially the unprotected kind - often leads to babies. Babies who grow into children who are Reaped for arenas to die. Would Darius want children? He would be free to pursue fatherhood with me – Peacekeepers must be celibate, not abstinent. Before Darius, I had never wanted children or to become a mother, for fear of losing them to the Reaping. What if Darius were reassigned to another district? If I were his wife, I would feel compelled to go with him to wherever a new commission might take him, thus leaving behind my homeland and my family. Even then, would I be allowed to accompany my husband to a new assignment? I don't know. What other difficulties would come from marrying a foreigner? For Darius is not from District 12, and our people take great pride in marrying one of our own kind, right down to class. Even marriages just between Merchant and Seam - like my parents' - are rare and frowned upon. Would I be seen even more differently in taking a husband who hails from one of the Career districts?

As I am thinking all this, I have been absent-mindedly running my fingers through Darius's hair, sizing him up. I gaze into his deep sea-green eyes. Turning away, I rise and cross over to the stove. Finally, turning back, I give him a hopeful smile.

"Yes," I whisper.

Darius beams and jumps to his feet. He takes me in his arms, wrapping one arm about my waist. His other hand falls into my hair, cradling my skull. Pulling my face close, he kisses me deeply on the lips.

My eyes droop shut, and I tilt my face closer as I relax into and even deepen the kiss. Opening my mouth wide, I coax Darius's tongue in between my parted lips, where it quickly twines about mine as we battle for dominance. I feel Darius's hand - the one at my waist - dip lower so that he feels me up, groping my ass. At the same moment, he thrusts out his hips, so that with a shuddering gasp, I feel the hardness of his length shove itself between my thighs and jostle against my dampening folds. Deeply aroused, I push my rising breasts and pebbling nipples into Darius's chest with a satisfied groan. "Mmmmmhmmmmm... yes, more, please..." I gasp. I rub my breasts sultrily against Darius's pectoral muscles.

Darius's nails dig into the curvy flesh of my rear. In answer, I swing my leg high, raising it to his waist and hooking it around his torso. We are still kissing passionately, but soon our mouths slow and we break apart slowly.

"I love you," Darius gets out.

I nod, smiling. "I know. I love you too."

And Darius and I embrace and kiss again.

* * *

For the second time in my life, I adorn myself in Mother's wedding gown. Primrose helps me with the veil and train. We can't go to the Justice Building this time, and Darius did not think it was a good idea for me to come to him at the Barracks. Instead, I receive my fiancé in the foyer of my sister's home.

Primrose stokes up the fire, and Darius and I toast a bit of bread and share it for the Toasting. With this tradition, I suddenly feel truly married again - more married than a slip of paper signed by the District Clerk could make us. Draping my arms lazily about Darius's neck, tangling my fingers in his auburn curls, my second husband draws me close and kisses me passionately, indecently. I accept and return the kiss just as fervently, as Primrose and Haymitch dutifully applaud...

* * *

They play in the Meadow. The little girl with the dark Seam hair running on chubby toddler legs ahead of her father. As I watch them in the sunlight, bouncing and nursing my son at my breast - my son, with his tufts of flaming red hair - I have come to accept that marriage and motherhood are just a blissful game. A blissful game in the larger contest of life that I never should have scorned.

After all, as I glance to the horizon and the future with a gnawing tickle of dread in my heart, there will soon be much worse games to play...


End file.
